i'm in the kitchen, shaking like i'm that fucking cold
i'm in the bathroom, staring at a kid who won't grow old
i'm not cut out for this, no
snow's coming down on my august as usual
overcoats at the shore. ocean's frozen.
no one's really around
no one really knows why
they've been taking photos at parties
where everyone's glad, drinks in their hands
the girls line up for glamour shots and
disperse into the living room, dressed to impress.
i came with an old friend, and when i lose her
it's just me and a sea of colored glass on the counter.
better judgement is such a load of shit
so glad everybody's here tonight. alright
some bird sits next to me, talkin speedy
about my shirt or some shit
i'm not here. i'm not in the right places tonight.
i drink til she disappears, and gets up
wondering "what the hell is he even doing here?"
i think there's someone upstairs who has me
doing all my shots in pairs. what's her name again?
i drink 'til she disappears, or becomes a segment of a dream
that i'm dreaming 'til i stumble out the door, or become something more.